Dalton Academy of the Arts
by Baysylisk
Summary: Dalton Academy: An elite school dedicated to dance, theater, music and art. But what happens when two boys from rival dance groups are forced to room together? Or when a theater student can't keep her eyes off the new TA? Or maybe when an art student is stuck with a mother for a teacher who's out to make her life a living hell? Klaine with a side of St. Berry, Tike and Brittana. AU
1. Introduction

"Five, six, seven, eight"

The deep bass of the music pulsated through his body with each precise movement.

_Step, kick, head, arm. Wait, two, three, four._

Blaine Anderson smiled in anticipation, focusing on the corner of the room as he approached his favorite moment of the combination.

_Turn, turn, jump, step, step, hold, down, out._

He dropped his body to the ground in a dramatic fall, only to immediately rebound back up and into a triple _pirouette_.

_Run, run, run, step, leap, step, pose._

The half of the class not dancing gave a polite round of applause as Blaine made his way to the side of the room. He exchanged a glance with Mike Chang, who gave him a thumbs-up. Blaine smiled then refocused himself so he could watch and mark the combination again. Sure, he was completely winded, but he still had to work out the timing on that tricky arm movement near the beginning.

_Step, kick, head, arm…_

* * *

Kurt Hummel shielded his eyes as he stepped out of the car and looked up at the large Victorian building.

"Wow. I know it looked big in the brochures and everything, but this is…"

"I know, Dad. I know."

"So you must be Kurt!" A cheery voice emerged out of nowhere, startling Kurt and his father.

"Yes, that's me." Kurt held out his hand to the girl who'd just greeted them.

The blonde girl shook his hand with a smile. "Quinn Fabray. I hope you packed light, Kurt."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. Quinn giggled.

"Well, you two parked in the front lot, but the ballet dorms are all the way across campus. We've got a long walk ahead of us."

* * *

"-on my paraaaaaaade!"

Rachel Berry dropped her arms, nearly gasping for air after her final note.

"Mediocre."

"Only 'mediocre'?" Rachel nearly screamed. "Jesse, this is the sixth time you've made me sing the ending, which was fabulous in the first place and has undoubtedly improved, and all you can say is 'mediocre'?"

"Well, yes." Jesse St. James stood from his seat in the auditorium, staring up at the girl on the stage. "The first time you sang it was just above the standards of a wailing cat on crack. You should be honored to have made such an accomplishment."

Rachel scowled.

"However, I still expect to see you at auditions next Wednesday. Harwood Hall, Room 103. Don't be late." Jesse kept a stern face as he turned and strode out the door, leaving behind a very determined vocalist.

* * *

It had been a long day of work, but the painting was finally complete.

Sugar Motta proudly displayed her latest work on her easel in the corner of the room. Of course, the display wasn't for anyone but her, as the annual art show wasn't for many more months. To add to that, if she were to present anything in her current state, she'd practically blend in with her painting. So many colors of paint were splattered and smeared on her arms and legs that she was practically a work of art herself.

"An excellent job as usual, Lauren. Very good." Sugar heard the teacher say as she made her rounds around the art studio. "Wesley! Amazing work with the point of view of that bridge. I can really see it from the perspective of a squirrel by the river's shore."

Sugar heard the teacher approaching with every click and clack of her heels.

Soon enough, the teacher was looking down at her, frowning. "Now, Sugar…what did we say about the control of our painting techniques?"

"Paint the paper, not ourselves." Sugar mumbled, feeling heat rush to her cheeks.

"Thank you honey. And please, next time, paint something worthwhile. I don't know what all this 'abstract' mumbo-jumbo is, but once you're over this phase I'd like to see a masterpiece, okay, sweetie?"

Sugar winced at how the teacher had said "abstract" as if she had said something like "fecal matter" or "frog intestines".

"Sugar, I would like an answer, please."

Sugar looked down at her feet.

"Yes, Mom."

* * *

Dalton Academy of the Arts: An elite school for all things dance, music, theater and art. Founded over a century ago, the school had undergone a financial crisis during the Great Depression, causing the school's ownership to fall into the hands of one Wallace Abernathy, a great supporter of the arts who happened to be extremely wealthy. He agreed to fund the school, under the condition that it be dedicated to the study of the arts.

At first the all-boys school offered very few courses, only teaching classical music and painting. But as the years progressed and society changed, so did the school. First, the blazers (in school colors: navy blue with red piping) were abolished in the 1960's. In the 1980's, the school became co-ed and added dance into its standard curriculum, which by then had been expanded to include the theater arts, orchestra, band and visual arts. In the 90's, the Nat Fein section of Dalton dedicated to photography broke off from the visual arts program, and the Arthur Miller Theater School broke off from the general theater arts curriculum, further dividing the exclusive school into specific sections. By that time even the dance curriculum was divided, splitting into a section of ballet and modern and a section of jazz, tap and hip-hop.

So much had changed over the many years, but there was one thing that always remained constant: the rivalries.

It had started out between just the band and the orchestra, and gradually escalated until every section of Dalton had a specific rival. The theater kids (Millers, as they liked to call themselves) despised the musical theater junkies. The painters and sculptors couldn't stand the photographers (who also had a nickname: the Natties). However, the worst rivalry of all was that between the dancers. Not a week went by when the two groups of dancers didn't compete for dominance of the studios.

But like all other traditions at the school, this wasn't bound to last.

The year was 2012, and everything at Dalton was about to change.

**AN: Hi, guys.**

**So, I'm sorry if this is...kind of weird.**

**I'm just letting you know that in terms of ships, this is going to be mostly KLAINE, with a side of St. Berry, Tike, Brittana and other couples I haven't decided on quite yet. **

**However, as assumed from this intro, it will be told from the POV's of all four main characters, who are Blaine, Kurt, Rachel and Sugar.**

**Yes, I love me some Sugar. :P**

**Just bear with me and hopefully this will come out okay...ish.**

**xoxo,**

**Baysyl**

**-SMALL NOTE HERE-**

**So, it has recently occurred to me that some people reading this might actually go to boarding school...or art school...or something of the sort.**

**I just want to let you know that I have no personal experience with boarding or art school whatsoever. The knowledge I'm using for this fic is limited to what I know from my experiences as a dancer and theater enthusiast, from my one year of visual arts camp and from another year of orchestral camp. That's it. So if there's anything in here that seems a little far-fetched, I apologize...because I really don't know what this stuff is like in real life.**

**And thanks for reading! :D **


	2. Overture: Part 1

**AN: Hi. So, I'm trying to keep my notes to a minimum, so I'll get right to the point.**

**First of all, as you can see, this story is separated into "Episodes". Each Episode will be a few chapters long, and will focus on a different character.**

**Second of all, please note that while I will try to continue this story as best as I can, updates are going to be extremely sporadic, as I usually write on really weird schedules.**

**Finally, I don't own Glee. I forgot the disclaimer initially, so here it is.**

**Enjoy :)**

**~Baysyl~**

Episode 1: Overture

Part 1

Dalton was overwhelming, to say the least.

The tall, elegant brick buildings, the wide open fields, the gorgeous landscaping; it was all amazing and beautiful, but at the same time so intimidating and unfamiliar. If Kurt had really tried to count, he probably would have seen somewhere around 200 hundred trees, 400 bushes, plants and flowers and over 50 designer-brand clad students all around the campus.

_And are those the Alexander McQueen boots I saw in July's Vogue?_

Kurt craned his neck and confirmed the identity of the gorgeous boots. And the blonde wearing said boots was quite easy on the eyes as well. In fact, the entire group of four boys the blonde was with seemed to be extremely attractive and well-dressed.

_Oh, I could really get used to this._

"So, Kurt, what do you think? Pretty nice, huh?"

Kurt snapped out of his hot boy-induced trance and nodded to his father.

"Well, it's no McKinley..." Kurt said sarcastically, causing Burt to chuckle. "But really, Dad, it looks amazing already. As much as I hate to leave you in Lima alone, I can't help but feel like I'll really fit in here."

"We've been through this, Kurt. I'll be fine on my own." Burt said. "And if it helps, I agree with you. I think that guy over there was wearing those boots you've been begging me for since last month."

_He knows me way too well_.

Kurt felt as the ground beneath him changed from soft green grass to hard blocks of smooth gray stone. The clicks of his suitcase's wheels sounded loudly as short vibrations were sent up his arms. But he barely noticed the courtyard he was standing in, too distracted by what he'd just seen.

"Quinn, is that a...?" Kurt trailed off, stopping in his tracks and staring at the large complex in awe.

Quinn stopped and turned, smiling when she saw what Kurt was staring at.

"Yes, that's the Dalton amphitheater. Beautiful, isn't it?"

_Beautiful is an understatement._

Kurt had always been one to appreciate well-designed theaters, and this was by far on the top of his list. The long and deep stage was framed by brown, natural wooden arches that continued to arc on the edges of the wings. The seats were all benches, placed along platforms that cascaded down a natural slope in the ground, and each bench was crafted of the same natural wood as the stage. Currently, there was a group of musical theater students rehearsing on the stage, working through what seemed to be basic choreography for an upbeat musical number.

"Wow." Kurt could do nothing but stare.

"Don't worry, every performing arts group gets a chance to perform there. For the ballet students, we usually put on our smaller ballets there as opposed to the main auditorium, and the bi-annual talent show goes on there as well." Quinn explained and she turned to continue walking. "Now, hurry up, you can ask all the questions you want later when we give you the official tour."

Kurt allowed his gaze to linger on the amphitheater for just a few moments longer before obliging and following Quinn for the rest of the way to the ballet dorms. But just when they arrived,

"Kurt, look out!" Quinn yelled, but it was too late.

Kurt suddenly felt himself collide with another body. The impact wasn't enough to knock him down, but just enough to make him stumble.

"Oh, I am so sorry! I hope I didn't hurt you! Oh man, Nick keeps telling me that I need to stop rushing and..."

Kurt glanced upwards at the boy that had collided with him. The first thing he noticed was that he was extremely tall, and his pale blonde hair practically glowed in the sun. The second was that he looked like he was having a panic attack, rambling on and on in incoherent sentences that Kurt could barely follow.

"...and I'm really late for my next class but I can't find my camera – it's in a bright blue bag with orange trim if you happen to see it – and I didn't mean to run into you I just-"

"Jeff! Deep breaths!" Quinn playfully scolded the blonde. "I'm sure Kurt is fine, just get to class before you get in trouble again!"

Jeff halted his speech and stood still, closing his eyes and relaxing for a few moments before suddenly dashing away. Kurt raised an eyebrow and exchanged a confused look with his father before looking at Quinn questioningly.

"I'm sorry, that was Jeff Sterling. Or as I like to call him, our resident spaz." Quinn giggled. "You'll meet his boyfriend Nick once we get to the dorms. They make quite an...interesting couple."

"Wait, did you say boyfriend?" Kurt asked delight evident in his eyes.

"Yeah..." Quinn trailed off, so as if to say, "And your point is...?"

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to insult anyone, it's just that...nobody here has a problem with that?"

Quinn smiled gently and shrugged.

"If they have a problem, they keep it to themselves. We have a strict anti-bullying and tolerance policy here at Dalton, and violations lead to immediate expulsion."

Burt elbowed Kurt and they exchanged a smile. Kurt felt as if he could skip the rest of the way to the dorm.

_Dalton just keeps getting better and better._

* * *

Quinn finally stopped at the front of a large brick building not unlike the others Kurt had already seen on the Dalton campus. In fact, this building was surrounded by three that were identical, the only difference being the name on the sign above the entrance. This building in particular had a large "_Balanchine_" written in elegant cursive above the intricately carved front doors. Quinn approached the dorm and took out a navy blue card from her pocket, which she swiped through a sensor to unlock the door.

"You need a key card to get into certain buildings around campus. Don't worry, you'll be getting your card before the end of the day." Quinn explained as she led Kurt and his father through the doors. "And according to this..." Quinn reached into her pocket once again, exchanging her card for a small slip of paper. "Your room is number 410, on the top floor. I have a temporary key card to get you in, too. Follow me, the elevator's this way."

Quinn led the two through a brightly-lit lounge area that was decorated with several sleek, modern-looking black couches all positioned around a large green coffee table. A flat-screen television was mounted on a far wall, with yet another black couch and a few matching armchairs facing towards it. Once again, the end tables were the same bright green as the coffee table.

"What's with all the green tables?" Kurt wondered aloud. "Because while I understand that in the world of interior design, black leather is very versatile, green isn't usually the preferred color for tables and furniture other than couches and chairs."

Quinn laughed.

"When they were designing the building, 'they' being the founders of the ballet school, they felt that they should pay homage to their favorite ballet at the time, "The Green Table", in the most literal way."

Kurt recognized the ballet name immediately.

"Kurt Jooss choreographed that, right? I remember watching a Youtube video of a company dancing it. It was brilliant!" Kurt said enthusiastically.

"I agree! Although it was a bit confusing the first time I watched it..." Quinn wrinkled her forehead in thought. "You know what, Kurt Hummel? I think you're going to fit in just fine here."

Kurt looked back at his father, who gave him a proud smile.

"I'm glad to know he'll have someone to talk about all this ballet mumbo-jumbo with." Burt said as the three continued to the elevator. "I, for one, can never and probably will never keep up."

"It's true," Kurt added, standing behind Quinn as she pressed the button to call the elevator. "He can never seem to remember the difference between Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky."

Quinn gasped in mock horror.

"I know, right?" Kurt continued, stepping into the elevator that had just arrived. "They're two completely different composers, Dad. And completely different ballets. I mean, The Rite of Spring versus The Nutcracker. How could you possibly get the two confused?"

Burt looked down and shook his head. "I don't know how I could have _ever_ made such a horrible mistake, Kurt." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Kurt glared at him, while Quinn laughed once again at the exchange.

The elevator let out a high pitched "ding!" just before the doors slid open. Quinn led Kurt and Burt out of the elevator and to the right, down a hallway of doors until they reached 410. Quinn took a key card out of her pocket and slid it through the lock on the door, waiting a second for it to click before entering.

"And now, Kurt, welcome to your new-"

"AAAUUGGHH!"

Quinn was cut off by a startled yell from inside the room. Looking around her shoulder, Kurt peeked into the room to see – _oh_.

A short and lean, but muscular boy stood by a bed, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Curly dark hair dripped water onto his broad shoulders, down a patch of dark chest hair and his clearly defined six-pack, all the way down to the "v" that disappeared beneath the white towel. Kurt willed himself to look back up to his face, only to meet the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes he'd ever seen.

"Hi, I'm-"

But that was as far as Kurt got before Quinn very loudly and angrily interrupted him.

"BLAINE ANDERSON, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THIS DORM?"


	3. Overture: Part 2

Episode 1: Overture

Part 2

"Well, hello to you too, Quinn Fabray. Lovely day we're having, isn't it?"

Quinn's death glare was so intense, Kurt could practically see lasers shooting out of her eyes.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here." Quinn practically stalked into the room, her eyes narrowed and fixated on the extremely attractive brunette, who was apparently named Blaine.

"Just taking a shower in my room." Blaine replied with a smirk as he gestured to the towel around his waist. Kurt gulped as he was reminded of Blaine's half-naked state, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. "You know, I should actually be asking you why you're here. You barged into my room without asking. Not to mention you're in the boys' hallway and seem to be lacking certain...genitalia typically required."

Kurt couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Burt with a look that was a cross between highly entertained and downright offended. Or maybe he looked worried? Honestly, in all of Blaine's attractive glory, Kurt had practically forgotten his father was even there.

"Seriously, Blaine. Spill. How did you get in here and why?"

"Elementary, my dear Quinn." Blaine wiggled his eyebrows as he continued to smirk. "There was a bit of an...accident I'd rather not talk about at the moment – too long of a story – that occurred in my dorm room yesterday. Since there were no empty rooms available in my own building, I'm being forced to stay here until my room's fixed up. Now, may I ask what has brought you to my temporary living space?"

"We've got a transfer student who's been assigned to this room as well." Quinn stepped out of the way and gestured to Kurt. "This is Kurt Hummel, who is apparently your new roommate." Quinn looked to Kurt. "Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson, who you have the unfortunate pleasure of rooming with for now. I deeply apologize for anything he might say or do, and I say this without any sarcasm."

"I'm sure he's not all that bad." Kurt replied as he finally stepped into the room, his father on his heels. "It's nice to meet you, Blaine. And this is my dad, Burt." Burt gave a small wave as he was introduced. The two placed Kurt's luggage at the side of the room beside one of the two beds.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Blaine said. "And I am so sorry that we had to meet in these conditions...I should probably put some clothes on, shouldn't I?"

"Well, yes. That would probably be recommended." Kurt laughed. This Blaine guy didn't seem bad at all. So why was Quinn being so mean to him? Kurt watched as Blaine pulled some clothes out from a dresser and made his way back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Well, Kurt, before I give you the official Dalton tour, we should probably all head to the main building to pick up your own key for your room." Quinn said, leading Kurt and Burt out the door of the room.

"You know what, Kurt?" Burt stopped Kurt in the doorway. "I'll go with Quinn and get the key for you. You should stay here with Blaine; get to know him a little bit better, seeing as he'll be your roommate for a while."

"Thanks, dad." Kurt said, giving his father a quick hug. "I'll see you later."

With a small nod and a smile, Quinn led Burt back down the hall and down a nearby stairwell, leaving Kurt alone in his room with Blaine.

Quickly, Kurt scanned the room. It was fairly nice, considering it was a dorm room. The room was very neutral in terms of color, with plain white walls and cream-colored carpet lining the floor. Two neatly-made beds were pushed up against the wall on one side of the room, and on the other were two dressers, with a table with small but nice television mounted on a table between them. Two desks were also in the room, one beside each bed. Kurt also saw a door opposite the bathroom door that led to what he presumed was a closet. Just as he was about to open it to see how much space it had, he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

Dressed in a simple navy blue v-neck and gray sweatpants with the Dalton crest on the side, Blaine still looked incredibly hot. Kurt couldn't help but blush at the sight.

"So, Blaine, is it? It's-"

"Please, stop talking." Blaine cut off Kurt's introduction. He slowly stepped closer to Kurt, staring straight into his eyes. His once-friendly smile was now a stern scowl, and his eyes bore holes into Kurt's head.

Kurt, against the surprising demands of his roommate, opened his mouth to speak but was immediately cut off once again.

"Look. I'm going to get straight to the point. I don't like you." Blaine said as he continued to step even closer, close enough so that Kurt could see the individual colors that made up his striking hazel eyes, which were fixated in a malicious glare. "I don't like your clothes," Blaine pinched the collar of Kurt's shirt, then quickly let go, "I don't like your hair," Blaine flicked at the middle of Kurt's perfectly styled coif, which sprang back into place, "and I don't like your prissy little ballerina attitude. No pun intended." Blaine placed extra emphasis on his final sentence, before turning away to walk back to his bed.

"What is your problem?" Kurt asked incredulously with a mix of anger and shock. He'd literally known Blaine for less than an hour and already Blaine was criticizing him. Dalton was supposed to be a safe haven; A school where he could escape the homophobes and bullies and just be himself. But already his own roommate was treating him like shit. He wouldn't stand for it. Not this time.

"Well, if you haven't picked up on it already, it's you." Blaine sat on the edge of his bed with a smirk. Kurt stalked over to where he sat and stood as close as he could, tilting his head downward to meet Blaine's eyes in a furious stare.

"I'm sick of people like you." Kurt scowled. "People who make judgments at first glance and who are so blindly opinionated that they think they have the right to treat everyone else like crap. I was sick of it back at home, and I will always be sick of it." Kurt watched as Blaine's smirk slowly began to fade. "I came to Dalton to be accepted and to get away from the homophobes who were fucking up my life because of who I am and what I do, so if you think I'm going to let someone else get away with the same bullshit that they did, you're wrong."

Blaine stared up at Kurt for a moment, then did the last thing Kurt expected him to do. He laughed.

"You think I hate you because I'm a homophobe?" Blaine asked, barely controlling his laughter.

"Why else would you have a reason to hate me? I'm obviously a flaming homosexual that you can't stand to share oxygen with, let alone a room."

"Kurt, I'm gay. There are other reasons as to why I already know I won't be able to stand your company." Blaine said as he stood up to meet Kurt's eyes. He was so close Kurt could practically feel his breath on his neck. A shiver ran down his spine.

"Then what is it, Blaine?"

Blaine leaned up to Kurt's ear, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"Just give it time. You'll figure it out eventually, ballerina boy."

And with that, Blaine circled around Kurt and walked out of the room without so much as another word, leaving behind a speechless and angry, but strangely turned-on Kurt Hummel.


	4. Overture: Part 3

**AN: I just want to quickly thank everyone for reading this story, and especially thank those of you who have reviewed it. I promised myself when I started writing that I wouldn't be one of those people who keeps asking for reviews and refuses to write unless people review, but I can honestly say that it was the few reviews I got on the previous chapter that gave me the motivation to sit down and write this one in such a short amount of time. So thanks to everyone :)**

**Also, while writing this chapter I've realized there is some knowledge that I may take for granted coming from a background of dance and art, so if anyone has any questions about any of the references I make, feel free to ask (or you can Google it...that hasn't really failed me yet XD)! I'll be putting some descriptions at the end, though, so hopefully that will cover it.**

**I apologize for the slow pace of this chapter...I kind of wanted to get a whole bunch of descriptions of the setting out of the way so I crammed them all in here...sorry 'bout that.**

**I don't own Glee.**

* * *

Episode 1: Overture

Part 3

"Kurt, we're back!"

Kurt looked up from where he was sitting on his bed. Apparently his distress from his previous conversation with Blaine was evident on his face, as Quinn was immediately sitting by his side.

"Kurt, what did Blaine do?"

"Hey kiddo, I've got your key!" Burt stood in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. The smile quickly faded as he saw Kurt's face. "Hey, what's wrong?" Burt moved toward Kurt's bed as well.

"Dad...it's about Blaine." Kurt began, about to tell his father and Quinn everything. But before he could, Burt cut him off.

"Oh, Blaine? Your roommate? He seemed like a great kid. And I bet you can't wait to see the rest of the campus. I really can't think of a better place for you to be, son." Burt said in an attempt to cheer Kurt up. "But why do you look so glum? Wait. Did Blaine do something to you? Because if he did I will find that boy and set him straight, you know I will, Kurt. I'll take it up with the Headmaster immediately and we can-"

"No, dad, Blaine's great." Kurt lied. "He just...while you were gone he told me about how homesick he gets, and I'm going to miss you so much."

Kurt could feel Quinn's questioning stare, but he ignored it.

"Aw, Kurt. I'm gonna miss you too, you know. You've never been away from home this long." Burt said as he engulfed his son in a hug. "And I'm sorry for flipping out about Blaine. I'm sure he's great. I just want to make sure everyone's treating you right, especially after what happened at McKinley and all..."

"Dad, I'll be fine. Everything's going to be amazing here, I know it." At this point, Kurt couldn't ignore Quinn any longer. He finally met her eyes.

"What are you doing?" She mouthed from behind Burt.

"I'll explain later." Kurt mouthed back as he broke off the hug with his father. Kurt could already tell he was going to like Quinn, and with her already established hatred of Blaine Anderson, she could probably answer the question as to why Blaine said he hated him.

"Well, I should probably get going. It's a long ride home and you probably want to finish getting settled in." Burt said. "Here's your key." Burt placed a small navy blue card in Kurt's hand, identical to the one Quinn had used earlier to get into the room, except it had Kurt's headshot (he had to submit one when he applied to the school) and name printed on it.

"I really will miss you, Dad." Kurt said honestly as he looked up at Burt.

"I'll miss you, too." Burt replied as he hugged his son once again. "But we still have video chat and that Skyfe thing you set up for me last night."

"It's called Skype, Dad." Kurt laughed against his father's shoulder. "So we can video chat tonight, okay?"

"Will do. I love you, Kurt."

"I love you too, Dad."

And with one last pat on the back, Burt headed out the door, leaving Kurt alone with Quinn at last.

"I'm sorry to kill the touching mood, but you have some serious explaining to do." Quinn stood up and faced Kurt, crossing her arms over he chest and sending him a glare that despite only having known her for several hours, Kurt was already getting used to.

There was no use in hiding the truth about his and Blaine's confrontation. Besides, Quinn was the only other person Kurt had officially met at Dalton so far, and aside from her being able to give him the answers he wanted, she seemed like a genuinely good person that he'd want to have as a friend. Kurt told her the whole story, from Blaine's cruel words to his own retaliation, and Quinn listened intently the entire time.

"So why didn't you tell your dad about Blaine, then?" Quinn asked after he'd finished, her gaze having softened from confrontational to sincere.

"I didn't want him to worry." Kurt explained. "He seemed so happy about me being here that I just...I couldn't let him down. Not again."

"What do you mean by again?"

Kurt didn't answer. It wasn't the time to explain everything. He may have trusted Quinn, but he didn't know her nearly well enough to tell her about his past.

"It's nothing." Kurt shrugged, then quickly changed the topic. "But I do have a question: Do you have any idea as to why Blaine said he hates me? Because I just can't figure it out."

"Oh, we know exactly why."

Kurt and Quinn both turned their heads in the direction of the new voice, which came from a short brunette standing at the door.

"Sorry. Nick Duval, your next-door neighbor. I was stopping by to say hello and I couldn't help but overhear you talking." Nick stepped into the room and held out his hand, which Kurt accepted and shook.

"Kurt Hummel." Kurt replied. "So what is it with this Blaine kid?"

"It's not so much what's with Blaine as it is with all the Coles." Nick said as he released his firm grip on Kurt's hand.

Kurt raised an eyebrow in confusion. "The Coles?"

"That's our name for the guys and girls who live in the Jack Cole dorm next door." Quinn explained. "The dance majors."

"For as long as anyone can remember, the dance majors and the ballet majors have hated one another." Nick said. "We don't know where the rivalry originated or how it came to be, but we do know that we can never trust the Coles. Everything we do with them always ends in a disaster."

"So he hates me...because I dance ballet?" Kurt asked.

"Well, not necessarily because you do ballet – the Coles have to take ballet as part of their curriculum too – but because you're a ballet major." Quinn said.

"And you're sure there's no other reason?" Kurt asked. "Because the things he said can't exactly be justified by some silly rivalry-"

"Kurt, this is more than just some 'silly rivalry'" Nick interrupted, grasping Kurt's shoulders. His stare was intense and serious, as if his words would determine Kurt's life or death. It was kind of scary, actually. "The loathing that us ballet dancers feel for the Coles – and the loathing that is reciprocated – is not a matter that can be taken lightly. They do unspeakable things to us, so in return, we do unspeakable things to them."

"Especially when it comes to Blaine Anderson. He's one of the worst." Quinn added.

Kurt was nearly shaking with fear as Nick's hands fell from his shoulders. What was he supposed to make of this rivalry? What exactly were the Coles capable of? Were Nick and Quinn just exaggerating? But there was still one thing he didn't understand.

"Wait. But what about Dalton's zero-tolerance bullying policy? Shouldn't that keep anyone from doing anything bad to one another?" Kurt asked, remembering the numerous pamphlets and articles he'd read about Dalton.

Nick and Quinn shared a glace and chuckled, before Nick spoke up.

"We find certain...loopholes to the system." Nick explained. "Technically what any of us do can't be classified as 'bullying' in any way. Also, none of the stuff is ever really done by an individual or in public. That way, if anything gets too bad – which it usually doesn't, but there have been a few minor accidents – the administration doesn't have any single person to blame. In those instances, they just blame the entire dorm or something."

"You seem to know and awful lot about all of this." Kurt shook his head, trying to imagine the sorts of things the dancers could have done to each other.

"Well, I've been here since my freshman year, and I'm a senior now, so you could say I know just about all there is to know." Nick said proudly.

"But don't worry, Kurt. We just tend to exaggerate a lot. Most of it is harmless, and if anything, it's actually kind of fun." Quinn patted Kurt on the shoulder. "Sure, rooming with Blaine won't exactly be a gallop through a field of flowers, but it's only temporary." Quinn began to sport a sinister grin. "And besides, with you in such close proximity, we might even be able to pull some major pranks on the guy. That'll be fun." Nick gave Quinn a high five as she finished her sentence, and even Kurt smiled along with them. So maybe the rivalry wasn't so bad after all.

A few soft buzzing sounds were audible before Kurt saw Nick check his phone, then turn to leave the room.

"I'm sorry to leave so soon, but my boyfriend is apparently waiting for me outside the dorm." Nick turned directly to Kurt. "It was nice to meet you, Kurt, and I hope everything with Blaine works out. And if not...well...that's all the more fun for us when we get him back, right?"

Kurt laughed with Nick and Quinn. "Nice to meet you too, Nick. And I'll let you know how it goes."

Once Nick had left the room, Kurt turned to Quinn.

"Is that the same Nick you mentioned before? The one who's dating that guy who ran into me?"

Quinn chuckled. "Yep. That's the guy. The two make a weird pair, but somehow it works. In fact, they're one of the 'power couples' of the school. They've been together since freshman year. It's quite adorable, really."

Kurt smiled. It was strange for him to be somewhere where being gay was so accepted and common. Then again, now he was being prejudiced against for being a ballet dancer, so he didn't really know what to think of that.

"We've spent enough time in this room." Quinn said, grabbing Kurt's wrist and leading him out the door. "I think it's about time you finally get that official tour of the campus."

"Okay." Kurt agreed. It wasn't really as if he had a choice in the matter, though, since Quinn's grip was like a vice.

"And so we start with the dorm..."

Quinn brought Kurt to the many sections of the building that he hadn't already seen. There was another hallway of rooms on his floor – the fourth floor – and two other halls on the third floor. The second floor housed two small dance studios for practice, each complete with a barre, mirrors and a surround-sound stereo system.

"They're open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week." Quinn said as she showed Kurt how to hook up his iPod to the stereo system. "They're also soundproof, so you won't have to worry about waking anyone up if you decide to pull an all-nighter."

"Why would you want to stay up all night dancing? Isn't that a bit much?"

Quinn shrugged. "You'd be surprised. Sometimes the choreography is so tough that we need the time to perfect it. Other times we just lose track of time." Quinn walked into the center of the studio and stared at her reflection in the large mirror. "And between you and me, sometimes I just like to lay down in here...there's just something about a dance studio that makes all your problems go away, you know?"

Kurt had a feeling there was more to Quinn's story, but it wasn't the time to pry.

After the studios, Quinn took Kurt down to the first floor, where she took him back through the lobby he'd seen and into a section with a full kitchen and refrigerator. Kurt was excited immediately by all the working appliances, and he couldn't wait to cook and bake again.

On his way out, Kurt also met two girls in the lobby named Melanie and Brooke, who immediately screamed and gave Quinn enthusiastic hugs when they saw her (which caused Kurt to cringe; He wasn't one for unnecessary high-pitched squealing). As it turned out, the two were good friends of Quinn's, and upon meeting Kurt they greeted him with the same enthusiasm. Melanie Richards was a tall and lean brunette, whose dark skin contrasted greatly with her piercing blue eyes. Brooke Harwood was almost the complete opposite. She was extremely petite but muscular, with long, curly brown hair cascading over her wide shoulders. Kurt could tell that he'd be seeing a lot of them, and he could easily admit that he was looking forward to getting to know them well.

Upon leaving the dorm and saying their farewells to Melanie and Brooke, Quinn immediately turned right and led Kurt to the dorm beside their own, which looked identical except for the sign in the front donning the name "Jack Cole".

"Stay away from here as much as possible." Quinn warned. "Paulo, another one of the ballet guys, once had water balloons thrown at him by the Coles through the windows. They ended up drenching all the shoes in his dance bag, and let's just say it wasn't a pleasant experience for Paulo in class that day or for any of us who had to listen to him rant about it for a week afterward."

Quinn then led Kurt to a nearby wooden building. At the door, she swiped her key card and walked through a set of glass sliding doors. The building's lobby was extremely open, with a very cozy-looking sitting area in the middle surrounded by several vending machines. The walls were made of a light wood, and multiple skylights and windows allowed plenty of light to shine in and down on the dark blue carpets on the floor. The sides of the room had many doors, each labeled with number. Looking through the windows next to each door, Kurt could see that each was a studio, some smaller or larger than others. In the back, stairs led upward and downward. Upstairs were more studios, and downstairs were two dressing rooms, one for each gender.

"This is where I like to call home." Quinn said as she flopped down onto one of the couches. "We spend the majority of our time here, between classes and rehearsals. Usually all the studios are packed, but since it's a Sunday there aren't any classes, and there aren't any rehearsals for anything at the moment. Speaking of which, you've heard about the auditions this Wednesday, right?"

Kurt nodded. "For 'The Nutcracker'? Yeah. I'm really excited, too. I've never gotten the chance to perform in an actual ballet before." At his old studio, all he did was go to regular classes all year, then he'd prepare for a final recital. He'd always wanted to be in an actual full-length show, but he'd never had the opportunity.

"Good. It may be mandatory for all the ballet students, but it's also a lot of fun. The teachers do a great job of mixing up the choreography a bit every year so we never get bored. They also add in some contemporary and lyrical jazz stuff in the second act...it's always amazing, no matter what role you end up with."

"What roles have you played before?" Kurt asked as Quinn brought him back outside.

"Well, I'm a junior like you, so I've only done it twice. In my freshman year I was a snowflake, the Spanish dancer and a flower, and last year I was a snowflake, one of the Russian dancers and a flower." Quinn told him. "But repeating a role isn't bad at all, since the choreography is always changing. And now we have reached Dalton's central square."

Kurt followed Quinn into a large courtyard, which was in front of the huge Victorian-style building he'd first seen when he arrived at Dalton. Quinn led him inside and showed him the many administrative offices, as well as the classrooms where he'd be taking his core subjects during the week. The back of the building housed the cafeteria, where stands sold a huge variety of foods from sushi to salads to fried chicken.

"That is one thing I can say I am extremely grateful for here at Dalton." Quinn said as she and Kurt passed by a small coffee shop beside the cafeteria. "There is always good food available."

Quinn brought Kurt back around to the front of the building, then turned and walked until they reached an extremely modern and large white building shaped like a giant cube. Quinn explained that it was the visual arts and photography building, and that the two smaller buildings just beyond it were its two dorms. Both were modern, but the one on the left, the visual arts building, was painted in an array of colors in swirls and lines with "Monet" in large black block lettering along the front. The building beside it, the dorm for the photography and graphic design students, was much plainer, sporting simple plain white walls with black trim and "Nat Fein" painted neatly on the side.

"Yo! Sup, Quinn!" Kurt suddenly heard, and turned to see a brunette boy with glasses quickly approaching them in a wheelchair.

"Hey Artie!" Quinn greeted him with a hug. "Artie, this is Kurt. He's our new ballet major. Kurt, this is Artie. He's in photography and graphic design."

"I also dabble a bit in film" Artie said as he brought his wheelchair to a halt. "So, what brings you two to this end of campus?"

"Just giving Kurt a quick tour. We're only halfway done, so we'd better get going. We have to finish before dinner starts." Quinn said.

Artie mock-sighed. "I will never understand you dancers' obsession with food. Well, have fun, guys. I'll see you around, Kurt."

"It was nice meeting you, Artie." Kurt replied.

Just as Kurt and Quinn began to walk away, Artie suddenly yelled to stop them.

"Wait, Quinn!"

Quinn turned. "Yeah?"

"I finished editing that footage you wanted. You can come by later and pick it up. I can't wait to see what you do with it."

Quinn smiled. "I'll swing by as soon as I can. Thanks again, Artie."

"Anytime." Artie winked, then headed off to his dorm building.

"Footage?" Kurt questioned. From the tone of the conversation, he couldn't help but believe that Quinn had something diabolical in mind.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a bit of embarrassing video of one of the Coles. You'll see it soon enough, I assure you." Quinn gave a wink similar to Artie's from a moment before, then continued to lead Kurt on his tour.

The next building they reached was also very modern, but with many more windows than the visual arts building. According to Quinn, it was the music building, used for band and orchestra rehearsals, as well as some of the vocal rehearsals for the theater and musical theater students. Behind it were once again two dorms in the same style as the music building. Both looked the same, except the left was labeled "Stravinsky" and the right "Duke Ellington".

Finally, Quinn took Kurt to the amphitheater that he'd seen earlier. Just beyond it was another large Victorian-style building, which housed Dalton's large auditorium. The doors to the building were locked because there wasn't a performance or rehearsal going on, but Quinn assured Kurt that it was beautiful and that he'd see it in no time. Behind the auditorium were once again two dorms, the left labeled "Sondheim" for the musical theater students and the right labeled "Arthur Miller" for the theater students.

"All of the building are grouped into pairs, like us and the Coles. So does that mean other sections have rivalries like ours?" Kurt wondered aloud as Quinn brought him back to their dorm building.

"They all do, but not to as great of an extent." Quinn explained. "The orchestra and band kids have little to no arguments, since they practically play in the ensemble anyway. The visual arts kids and the photography kids sometimes have their disagreements over what 'true art' is and all that, but most of them are usually too chill to make a big deal out of it. It's really the performers that have the rivalry issues, since we tend to be a bit...overdramatic when it comes down to it. The theater and musical theater majors are pretty bad, actually, but they don't do nearly as much to each other as the dance kids."

When they arrived back at their dorm, Quinn motioned for Kurt to swipe his card, which granted them access to the building.

"I promised some friends that I'd meet up with them for dinner tonight, so I'm sorry to leave you on your own." Quinn said once they were inside. "But I'm sure you'll be fine. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. You can also ask Nick or whoever the head off your floor is. I think it's Max, but you'll have to double check on that one." Quinn leaned in and gave Kurt a tight hug. "Welcome to Dalton, Kurt. I'll see you later."

Quinn tuned and left the building, leaving Kurt alone in the lobby for the first time since he arrived at Dalton.

"I guess I better get some dinner, then" Kurt murmured to himself before following Quinn's lead and walking out the door.

* * *

**AN: The dance dorm is named after the choreographer and dancer Jack Cole, who is credited with developing the style of dance now typically seen in Broadway productions and in movie musicals.**

**The visual arts dorm is named after the artist Claude Monet, who is most famous for his impressionist-style paintings of Water Lilies.**

**The photography dorm is named after Nat Fein, a prominent press photographer in the 40's and 50's who is most famous for his picture of Babe Ruth in 1948, which won him the Pulitzer Prize.**

**The musical theater dorm is named after Stephen Sondheim, a composer best known for musicals such as _Into the Woods, Sweeney Todd, Follies_, _Company_ and many more.**

**The theater dorm is named after Arthur Miller, a playwright who is most famous for writing _Death of a Salesman, All My Sons _and _The Crucible_.**

**The ballet dorm (the name of which was mentioned last chapter) is named after George Balanchine, one of the developers of ballet in the United States during the 20th century.**


End file.
